


Absence makes the heart grow fonder

by Arithanas



Series: A Huckleberry Above My Persimmon [5]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Blackmail, Dildos, Hacker battle, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Teledildonics, cam sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:20:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23076166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithanas/pseuds/Arithanas
Summary: When the distance became too much to endure for Eliot,  Quinn joined technology, blackmail and charm to ease the... discomfort.  Somehow, Hardison and Cha0s ended up in yet another digital battle.
Relationships: Alec Hardison & Colin "Chaos" Manson (background ), Mr. Quinn/Eliot Spencer (Leverage)
Series: A Huckleberry Above My Persimmon [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607185
Comments: 9
Kudos: 21





	Absence makes the heart grow fonder

The sun was starting to rise over the fence and Eliot closed his eyes. Since Leverage didn’t have active cases at the moment, Eliot had made the mistake of replying to Quinn’s text with an invitation to call him. Eliot just got home from the brewpub and it had been a rough night with a couple of brawlers, a kitchen mishap, and a couple of lover’s fights. Eliot’s patience, always proverbially thin, had been tested to its limits; he needed a beer and Quinn’s flirty natter. The beer was not a problem, but the chat was somewhat lacking. 

“You need to get a laptop,” Quinn said for the tenth time in the year, from a cheap Russian hotel room in a city Eliot couldn’t pinpoint on a map to save his life. “We can get audio and video instead of just calling when we get… restless.”

Eliot sighed and took a sip of his beer. They had had some fun at the beginning of the year, but the expected shortage of sex had become a drought. Scheduling trouble and bad luck had kept them apart and Eliot, begrudgingly, had to admit saucy texts and long-distance calls were not passing muster anymore. 

“Quit it,” Eliot warned and made sure he used that low grumble many men had learned to respect. 

“Or?” Quinn’s short question left no doubt he didn’t foster fear for Eliot.

“There is a long-overdue spanking your father never delivered.” 

“Spank me?!” Quinn scoffed, totally unimpressed by the menace. “You and what army?”

“I call BS,” Eliot retorted with a small chuckle. “You would love it if I spanked your ass!”

“That’s the inherent risk,” Quinn agreed, and Eliot pictured that very distinctive head tilt at the other side of the line. “That’s why you are being camera shy?” There was a small sneering sound before Quinn continued. “Afraid to like cam sex too much?”

“I don’t know if you have noticed, but I’m a hands-on person.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Porn doesn’t get my motor running.”

“I call BS,” Quinn said with a small chuckle. “I know porn _does_ get your motor running, and even if that’s true, this is not porn. It’s us having a good time together!”

“We can have a good time when you come to spend some time with me.” 

“Tell that to my blue balls!”

Eliot groaned at the sight of the iceberg approaching their fragile vessel. It was a good thing his rough night had made him cautious because he almost shouted at Quinn to rent the services of someone willing to warm his bed. They had never discussed monogamy—Eliot never expected it from Quinn—but this discussion should be delivered in person, not in a shouting match when his neighbors were starting their day. Besides, Quinn wanting sexy times with him was so flattering that Eliot felt almost ashamed at how much that thought revved his motor. 

“I have a reputation,” Eliot mumbled and sipped his beer, ready to veer away from danger. “I’m not comfortable with the idea of a video of me rubbing one off drifting the digital cloud.”

“Ugh, you adorable troglodyte!” Quinn sounded exasperated and amused at the same time. “Good thing I love your old-fashioned ass!”

“You need to work on your sweet-talk.”

“I have a reputation too, and the fact that’s not as fearsome as yours only makes me want to protect it more,” Quinn retorted with an even voice. There was a faint metallic sound in the background: Quinn’s cufflinks. He was getting ready for work. “If I can find ways to give my clients confidentiality, I can do even more for yours.”

“Quinn, I’ve never done anything like that,” Eliot groaned, tossing the last objection to this idea. Against his best judgment, the idea was getting more tempting by the minute.

“I bet,” Quinn said with that ironic tone that permeated all their interactions. Eliot’s cock stirred at that sound. “Think about it and think of me.” Quinn made a kissy sound. “I have to go recover a piece of art from a piece of ass.”

“Take care.”

“Always,” Quinn replied with a soft tone. “And... Eliot?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ll be gentle.” 

The call ended and Eliot felt the laughter bubbling in his belly. This harebrained idea had all the signs of being a colossal failure, but Eliot liked those odds.

・・・・★・・・・★ ・・・

The office looked like a spider web as it did every quarter. Parker had unfurled all her sets of rope to unkink them and wash them to keep them in working order. Hardison sighed and tried to fix his eyes on the screen wondering if a week had been enough for it to air dry. Time had taught him to never complain about it unless he wanted Eliot to give him an earful about Parker’s safety.

“I need a laptop,” Eliot said, coming into the office and putting a nice dish with freshly fried fish and all the trimmings in front of Hardison. “One with a good camera.”

Eliot bringing food was a frequent occurrence—he liked to keep them fed—but Hardison noted this dish had been just fixed, and Eliot avoided looking him in the eyes as he usually to gauge the pleasure in Hardison’s face. To make it even more suspicious, he went to gather Parker’s ropes and started to coil them without waiting for a reply. There was only one reason for Eliot to be this avoidant: shame.

“You’re nasty,” Hardison chided with a huge grin.

“Why’s that? Huh?” Eliot asked in a defiant tone. “I might want to check my e-mail at home.”

“You don’t need a camera to check your mail,” Hardison volleyed the lie back and turned his attention to that tasty bit of fish. “You’re planning a naughty show-and-tell.”

“Whatever I do with a camera is not your damned business.”

“Hey, man, don’t take it out on me!” Hardison replied with a hurt tone when Eliot set a neatly packed rope on the desk. “It’s not my fault you haven’t had the chance to disappear without a warning in a while.”

“Not your business,” Eliot repeated, tossing his head up in greeting and picking up another length of climbing rope.

“You’re right, you’re right,” Hardison conceded between forkfuls of fish filet. “At least I know you’re taking matters into your own hands…”

“Hardison, I swear…” Eliot started but Parker approached him to take the rope from his hands before he could snap it.

“You bought extra Gun Oil this month!”

“Do you know what _personal account_ means?”

“Pff! You don’t even like guns,” Parker interrupted with a small laugh. “What use could you have for gun oil?”

Eliot darted Hardison a sharp look before averting his eyes, letting Hardison know this was his mess and he must clean it up. Parker looked at them, waiting for an answer and Hardison fidgeted in place, unsure of the best way to explain Parker that Gun Oil was Eliot’s personal lubricant brand.

As an answer didn’t present itself, Hardison moved from his chair and moved to the side room to pick up a laptop. Walking away was as good a strategy to avoid answering a question as any. With the sound of Eliot and Parker chatting in the background, Hardison tried to select a laptop with a basic set up. 

Parker was telling Eliot about a cake Peggy had made for her last time she swung by Portland; her heart was set in getting another bite of it. Eliot, as he was wont to do when food was the issue, peppered Parker’s continuous stream with questions. Hardison smiled, grateful because Quinn seldom got in the way of their little family.

“Here you have it,” Hardison interrupted their chat and put a slim laptop he was planning to replace the next time a new processor came into the market. “Be sure to clean all the gunk from it!”

“Dammit, Hardison!” Eliot handed Parker her ropes and practically pounced on the device. “If you don’t shut up about it, I’ll make you reach for the Purell!”

“Be nice!” Hardison replied with a big grin. “It’s my equipment. You don’t want me to mess up your video meeting!”

“I dare you!” 

Eliot could shoot daggers at him until hell freezes over, but Hardison knew he had the upper hand here and that made his whole week. Maybe there was a bit of fun to be had after all.

・・・・★・・・・★ ・・・

A gym session was in order to make sense of all the things inside his head. Eliot plowed through traffic with the radio on and that had helped for a bit, but that Randy Travis’ song ended, and the red light seemed to last forever. Without thinking, Eliot sent a message to Quinn and turned the radio off.

Eliot tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, waiting for the light to change. The laptop Hardison gave him sat in the shotgun seat and Eliot was doing his darndest to not look at it. The idea was crazy, to begin with, but now, with the tools at hand, it sounded even wilder. 

“ _New call from_ …” The speakers droned as the light finally changed.

“Accept it,” Eliot commanded and let go of the brakes.

The Challenger moved slowly through traffic, but that was not an annoyance anymore. Quinn’s voice traveled from the speakers to Eliot’s ears and the smile was instantaneous.

“Greetings from Cape Town, buddy!” Quinn greeted over the sound of clinking china and conversations. Quinn might be calling him from a restaurant in South Africa. “I wish you were here.”

“Hey,” Eliot mumbled and did his best to keep his eyes on the road. “I got a laptop.” 

“Something in your voice tells me you are getting cold feet…”

“I’m just worried about safety,” Eliot dismissed the taunt and put his blinkers on.

“I got it sorted,” Quinn said, and Eliot almost felt Quinn’s lazy smile from the phone. “Be assured: when you have cam sex with me, you will only have it with me.”

Eliot scoffed and turned the corner. Working with Vance, and for Uncle Sam, had made Eliot double shy about the digital world; Eliot had heard and reviewed enough secure and encrypted digital messages to know how little that promise meant. 

“I never told you how I started hitting, did I?” 

“You never did,” Eliot said and showed his card to the automated gate of his gym’s parking lot. “I didn’t ask.”

“I started tracking _sunuvavičes_ through international borders,” Quinn said like that was a badge of honor. “Mostly for unpaid alimonies.”

Quinn had two endearing traits Eliot would never admit to his face: that infuriatingly sexy head tilt and the way you can almost taste the caron when he tried to say the ch sound in English. That sound betrayed Quinn and that was why he avoided ‘child support’ in his humblebrag. Quinn had kept talking, but Eliot was still savoring that sound while driving in search of a good spot.

“So, I track me up a particular _sunuvavič_ ,” Quinn’s voice caressed Eliot’s ear again and that made him pay attention. “A keyboard monkey that’s pretty afraid of my harmless self and he’s even _terrified_ of your less-harmless self. He’s a weasel, but he knows better than to piss off both of us.”

“You didn’t!” Eliot exclaimed in surprise. There was only one son of a bitch who fit the bill.

“I did, and I got his balls on a leash for good measure. No, you can’t ask what I have against him. Besides, he’s the only one that can give Hardison a run for his money!” Quinn chuckled at the other side of the line. “And don’t ask why I know you are worried about Hardison: you don’t care a fig about a random nobody in Russia or France looking at your cock. I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t walk into an electronic store and swipe that bottomless card of yours to buy a new laptop, you tightwad!”

Eliot laughed against his will as he parked on a free spot under a surveillance camera. He wasn’t sure if the insult was funny or his mirth came from Quinn avoiding the word ‘cheapskate’, but he found it hilarious. There was a kernel of truth in Quinn’s accusation: Eliot would never pay for something new when he could get something second-hand for free. It was comforting to know there was a person in this world who cared enough to notice Eliot had the common bad habits of people used to living hand-to-mouth.

“So…” Quinn said with his warmest, sweetest tone. “Do we have a date this Saturday?” 

・・・・★・・・・★ ・・・

Eliot turned off the shower and toweled himself dry. It was weird to have a shower in the middle of the morning—his cleaning rituals tended to cluster early in the morning—, but this day was special. The laptop next to his bed had been pinging while Quinn set their video date in place and the sound was grating on Eliot’s nerves. A shower was in order.

“I can see your bed!” Quinn’s voice came from the bathroom vanity. “Do you really sleep in a single bed with white cotton sheets?”

“I don’t need more,” Eliot grumbled and tied the towel around his midsection before pulling open the shower curtain. He picked up his phone without thinking.

“That’s why you are grumpy,” Quinn insisted with the good-natured ribbing. “You need space to stretch!”

“Cut it out!” Eliot commanded and closed the bathroom door behind his back.

“Drats!” Quinn complained. “I missed the strip-tease!”

“Can you see me?” Eliot asked, walking to his bed with measured steps.

“You got a good camera.”

Eliot sat in his bed and peered through the screen. Quinn waved hello from his big bed with silk sheets in Prague. A silk robe over his shoulders, his cellphone by his left, and a fleshlight by his right. The nightlights were on, so it was probably past sunset in Quinn’s location.

“It seems like I missed the strip-tease too.”

“Oh, I can give you a show with this thing alone!”

“Please, don’t.”

Eliot turned his head and looked at the bright day outside his bedroom. It was too much light and he could hear the kids two houses over shrieking as they played with the sprinkler as they had been doing since it got warm enough. 

“Anything that matters, pal?”

“I live in a residential spot, Quinn, not in the tallest building of my city,” Eliot explained, feeling utterly stupid for not thinking about it beforehand. “Kids are around Saturday morning.”

“Well, we just need to be extra quiet…”

Eliot rolled his eyes, neither he nor Quinn are of the quiet type. It certainly added some challenge to an already challenging issue.

“Anyway, did you get my gift?”

Eliot bent over to pick a gray cardboard box with the green stickers of certified mail everywhere. They delivered to the brewpub and Eliot had to take it from Parker before her curiosity got the better of her. Anything from Quinn had to be taken with caution and a healthy dose of suspicion. Eliot showed the package to the camera.

“What are you waiting for!” Quinn exclaimed from his bed. Eliot could tell Quinn was excited, despite his carefully curated stillness. “Open it up!”

With half a smile, Eliot tore up the tape and peered inside the box. Inside there was another hard-plastic case. It was rather heavy but opened without a hassle. Eliot peered inside and it took him a second to make sense of the thing that rested on top of the white grid.

A toy. 

A sex toy. 

Eliot couldn’t believe Quinn sent him a piece of silicone via mail: a realistically colored dick with balls included. Eliot felt the scowl furrowing his brow. He should have expected it, knowing that Quinn’s vintage end-of-bed trunk held a hoard of marital aids. _I have been lonely_ … Quinn admitted with a small shrug when Eliot voiced his shock. Eliot closed his eyes with a groan and took out the offending item.

Then, he felt it. As soon as his fingers took a good grip around it, Eliot knew it. It was a pretty distinctive sensation: all the bumps, the give, the slight rising curve, the weight... It filled his hand exactly right. Eliot let his thumb roam about the crown, and he could feel the loose extra tissue around the head. 

“You sent me _your cock_?!” Eliot exclaimed and the cardboard box fell to the floor, but his hand refused to let go of the object in his hand.

“You are welcome, and please, can you shout a bit louder? I think some of your neighbors didn’t get notification of my gift!”

“This is the most expensive way to tell me to go fuck myself, Quinn.”

“Only the best for you, pal,” Quinn replied with a self-sufficient chuckle. “But I know you were bereft of tools of pleasure, and, since you liked mine…”

“You are crazy,” Eliot spat, but then he noticed he had been massaging the toy. “We should talk about your spending habits…”

“You would never buy it for yourself, I know you,” Quinn shrugged, totally unconcerned about Eliot’s austerity measures. “If you were to have a toy, it better be one we had tried and liked. Besides, someone owed me a favor, it wasn’t so expensive...”

“Whose cunt you have there?” Eliot interrupted Quinn’s tirade before his uneasiness became a full-blown shame spiral.

“This? It’s not gender-specific,” Quinn showed Eliot the cushy part of the toy. The smooth pink surface only had a small hole in the center. “I didn’t have a cast of your lovely butthole when I got ready for today.”

“You are killing my boner, Quinn.”

“Oh, my, my!” Quinn covered his face with his hand, but even that couldn’t hide his smile. “Sometimes I forgot how much of a baby gay you are!”

Those words hurt in a very unexpected way. Those words put Eliot on the spot, and he felt disgustingly young and naive. Blood pounded against his ears, impatient at his own inexperience... Eliot couldn’t help but cast down his eyes as he fought the surging wave of rage. 

“Hey… We don’t need to do anything,” Quinn said with a soft voice that made Eliot pay attention to the video. “I can hook up a streaming service. Watch a movie.” Quinn shrugged on the screen with a bit of concern on his face. “You can move the laptop to the kitchen and cook lunch for all I care…”

Eliot looked at Quinn and his heart went to the other side of the world. He wanted to be in that big bed, his arms wrapped around Quinn, his nose pressed against the lapels of that silk robe, feeling the real thing against his leg and not that surprisingly good substitute in his hand. _I miss you_ , Eliot thought and leaned toward the screen, as if it could help him ease the distance.

“I just want to spend time with you,” Quinn concluded, leaning a bit toward the screen.

“Me too,” Eliot confessed to the fact. The next months felt like an eternity, he rather endured them pinned under crossfire than waiting for them to meet. “But I’m also horny as heck…”

“Wait…” Quin mumbled as his jaw slacked in surprise. “You are _waiting_ for me?”

“No!” Eliot exclaimed and recoiled, but the memory of his spending on lube didn’t let him lie. “Well… I blow off steam from time to time, but… I haven’t had any assistance from another human being if that’s your question.”

“That would be so _fucking_ adorable if it didn’t imply you asked non-human beings for help.”

“You know what I _mean_!”

“I do, _drahoušku_ , I do,” Quinn whispered with a slow, sweet intonation. “And I’m puffed as a peacock by the compliment, but we can’t let you go like this until summer.” 

Eliot noticed Quinn didn’t concede he was in the same state, but the change of tone and that name—Quinn only used that name when he was being candid—really helped Eliot to feel closer. And he was right, if Eliot wanted to stick to his resolution, he would need to soldier on. He closed his eyes and willing himself vulnerable, powerless, like a grunt fresh out of boot camp in the hands of his capable drill sergeant. 

“Tell me what to do,” Eliot said with his eyes still closed because displaying vulnerability was the greatest gift for men like him, like Quinn. “I can follow instructions…”

・・・・★・・・・★ ・・・

 _Call me that name again…_ A gaspy voice demanded in a murmur.

 _I know that sound! Are you ready for me, drahoušku?_ Another voice taunted in a more roughed, demanding tone. _It doesn’t look like it, by how hard you are sucking_... 

With a grunt, Colin Mason took out his headset. He could never in a thousand sleepless nights could he imagined that that couple could get down and dirty. Well, maybe dirty, but not with each other. 

Despite all his efforts to not be involved in their digital fucking—the lowest audio, the blurriest video, the smallest display screen—, he had to monitor the communication. Under his secondary monitor, a bulky manila envelope with the words MUTUALLY ASSURED DESTRUCTION written in black marker reminded him of the cost of noncompliance. That bastard Quinn didn’t have to double underscore the word ‘assured’ to make his point across. 

The material was nuclear. The list of addresses stapled to it was even more intimidating. Quinn had made a thorough background check and had found crimes Colin had even forgotten he had committed; let alone the people he had screwed in his wake. If it weren’t so daunting it would be admirable. 

Why did Quinn take the care to research his criminal record? Who cares if any of them suck dick anyway? It’s the 21st century, being bi is allowed and kind of hip now.

 _Eliot, I can’t see a thing!_ Quinn protested from the discarded earphones. _Yeah, I know you don’t like your legs in the air, but… ARHG!…_

That didn’t sound right. In fact, that sounded like a ton of work about to be tossed into Colin’s lap without any warning. Colin rushed to put his headset on just in time to hear that bastard not only doubling his job but making the risk leap to almost unmanageable levels.

_Know what? Turn around and accept the video call on your phone!_

“Are you kidding!” Colin exclaimed and moved to the keyboard.

Another time and any other circumstance, Colin would have killed for the privilege to learn Eliot Spencer’s number. Oh, the pranks he could have played on that grumpy hitter just to hear him roar… but now, he had to track two different phone signals, bouncing off satellites and towers, each relay was a potential breach of safety. At least with the Wi-Fi signals, Quinn gave him a good quarter of an hour to set his traps…

Colin couldn’t help but let his eyes roam to that manila envelope again. He might not need his balls to type, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t like to keep them where they are.

・・・・★・・・・★ ・・・

Porn had been a constant pleasure for Quinn since his first taste of hormones. From the ragged adult magazines shared in a corner of a schoolyard to the dirty flicks on the net, he had tasted them all. The voyeuristic pleasure was a constant in a life of perpetual change. When the hormonal wildfire was too distracting in the middle of the job, a bit of visual aid really got the job done quickly; when a slow time rolled around and he was not in the mood to prowl for a partner, an adult video and a tool from his toy chest help him pass the time. Porn was a straightforward way to tame the beast.

Whatever was happening on the screen of his laptop was not porn at all. Almost a week ago, he had tossed Eliot that line because he wanted to have a private porn session with Eliot as the guest star. That was all… 

This was no porn, Eliot’s performance was shy, clumsy… and adorable. Quinn felt an ache behind his ribs when Eliot’s face showed confusion and that brief second of discomfort as the toy breached his well-warded backside. He had never witnessed that facial expression; Eliot favored the doggy style and all its variations and, most of the time, Quinn was in a hurry to reap the fruits of his labor. After all those years in denial, Eliot needed a ton of coaxing to cross the Rubicon, but each time had been a life-changing experience. As it was right now…

The trembling lips, the half-veiled eyes, the way Eliot’s chest trembled when breath escaped his lungs… Quinn was aroused, without any doubt, but he was mesmerized by each of the little details he often disregarded with porn. Part of him finally got why, when they watched that awful private show Quinn gave once in Budapest, that horrible display of his incompetence had turned Eliot on for days. Despite the low quality of the show, this was Eliot— _his_ Eliot—finally letting him see how lust looked on his face. The experience was quite different from porn; this was not enhancing, it was humbling, and humility was never of his taste, but it was also… sublime. 

On his screen, Eliot closed his eyes and raised his chin and Quinn felt the need to kiss the stubble, to close his hand around Eliot’s nape. The distance was almost too painful to bear... 

“It’s throbbing,” Eliot reported with the most adorable blush splashed across his face, breaking the spell and allowing Quinn to draw a short, sucking breath.

“It’s my own pulse,” Quinn explained and pointed his camera to his cock ring. The latex cover contracted a fraction of an inch in reply to the squeeze Eliot gave to the other half. “Hmmm… don’t grip me too tight!”

“Technology…” Eliot groaned from Quinn’s phone.

“How are you holding on?” 

On the screen, Eliot only nodded and let his head hung; the natural light pouring over his long hair sent an erotic shiver down Quinn’s spine. Eliot’s shyness made Quinn smile and, as much as his boyfriend hated technology, the idea of looking at Eliot’s face in the throes of passion for the first time was even more exciting than having his flesh hugged snuggly by that willing body.

“Eliot, look at me,” Quinn said with a small smile, for a second he felt as if he were in the same room, in the same bed. 

The movement was slow, but Eliot complied. His eyes had started to lose its focus and his shoulders were almost red with rubor. His long hair hung by his face; his pleading, blue eyes fixed on Quinn. 

“You are so handsome…”

“Shut up!” Eliot grumbled, but his face flushed even more.

“Don’t look away, _drahoušku_ ,” Quinn pleaded and leaned forward, his free hand gripping his fleshlight. “Back yourself on my cock…”

On his screen, Eliot retreated a bit. The image depicted in lovely detail how the moan danced on his lips, how his eyelids fluttered for a second as the toy advanced another inch into his rear.

“Slowly,” Quinn guided as he fit the cock sleeve in place. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“So deep,” Eliot complained, with his lip quivering.

“So cozy” Quinn taunted and put his fleshlight between two pillows, ready to thrust into it. 

His eyes spared a glance to the bigger screen on his laptop, but Eliot’s butt stuffed with the toy was not as half as interesting as his face, barely holding a semblance of decency. 

“What do you want me to do?” Quinn asked, holding his phone in his hand as if it was the center of his universe.

The question dropped out of his mouth before Quinn could notice he was unable to do a thing due to the number of miles between them, but then magic happened. Eliot sighed and shivered and looked at Quinn right in the eye.

“Fuck me, Quinn,” Eliot pleaded with trembling lips and hungry eyes, flared nostrils and sweaty brow. “Please, fuck me…”

・・・・★・・・・★ ・・・

Hardison was getting frustrated. Anyone who knew him could tell by the number of empty Orange Squeeze soda bottles by his side.

The alarm went off when his laptop was linked to a popular video chat app had sounded some time ago. Parker noticed the number of windows on his screen and kissed him on the cheek before picking up her gear; she was a smart cookie. Hardison picked up something about sorting her stuff at her safe house, but he didn’t register that quite up, because stealing that particular video should have been a kid’s play, but the fight level was beyond difficult.

At first, Hardison just wanted to mess with Eliot—maybe interrupt his session by displaying those old Leekspin or Caramelldansen videos on loop—before he and Quinn got serious in their cam session, pull his chain just a little, remind him there were no secrets on the ‘net, but he didn’t expect the session to be ironclad protected. 

He should have dropped his original plans a long time ago. It was obvious Eliot made arrangements with another hacker because every one of Hardison’s moves met with a solid wall. Hardison would take care of that hurt as soon as he could find a way to disrupt Eliot’s fun. It was a matter of principle: no one says no to Alec Hardison in the digital world.

Between his third and fourth soda bottles, a small window of chance opened when Eliot’s phone started a video call. Hardison launched into it with a sadistic glee only to be rerouted through a maze of countermeasures both infuriating and futile...

“Cha0s…” Hardison growled when he dismantled the third trap and that trap tried to attack their dedicated server. 

Threat named, he launched the riposte with gusto for a good quarter of an hour until he noticed he had been had and mumbled between his clenched teeth. He had fallen square on the trap; he had let Cha0s set the framing of their battle again. He returned to hack Eliot’s phone and was rerouted again, but this time his screen lit up and Cha0s looked at him from a brightly lit room. 

“Hardison.”

“Cha0s.” 

“It has been so much fun.” Cha0s cracked a smile. “Let’s not do it again.”

“Why are you blocking me?”

“Because I had been... contracted. By the way, Mr. Quinn sends his regards and says if you want to look at Eliot’s wares you need to present him with a notarized letter.” Cha0s stopped to sip from a bottle of strawberry soda. “Or to ask Eliot directly.”

“Like you would do it for money…”

“Despite what you might like to think, you are not the center of my universe, Hardison.” Cha0s retorted and typed a new attack against their server. “Mr. Quinn’s offer was enough for me to play the goalie and, trust me, you don’t want to be part of whatever is happening in that stream.”

Hardison grunted and typed at the best of his speed and accuracy. He had to protect their server and breach his security system at the same time; Cha0s won’t beat him in this game. 

“Naughty, naughty!” Cha0s exclaimed and threw himself into the game. “Come on, Hardison! Bring it on!”

Hardison grunted and typed some commands. He knew Cha0s was goading him into a senseless battle to gain time to fulfill his contract with Quinn. It was all right, Hardison tipped his hat to Cha0s’s professionalism, but he will win in the end.

It was a matter of principle.

・・・・★・・・・★ ・・・

Eliot tilted back his head and took a long sip of water from his bedside table. Any vigorous activity always left him parched, but he seldom felt—not even during ruck training—the need to drain a whole bottle down his throat. Distance fucking was a thirsty business...

“That was… something else,” Eliot mumbled and turned to look at the screen where Quinn snuggled in his bed in Prague. 

The dark night in his window and the glare of the screen highlighted Quinn’s face and Eliot smiled with a bittersweet taste in his mouth. There was a time where they were both in that bed and Eliot could reach to hug Quinn against his chest. The insurmountable distance between them hurt like a punch for each mile, but now it felt survivable.

“Glad to be the tool to broaden...” Quinn stopped and leaned a bit forward with a sly smile. Eliot could read in his face that he was swallowing back the double entendre. “Thank you for trying.” 

“I kind of miss you, Quinn,” Eliot admitted and leaned back on his pillows. “Of course I had to try.”

“I love you anyway,” Quinn mumbled, still in the haze of that deadly cocktail of happy chemicals.

“Acknowledged,” Eliot said and pulled a blanket to cover his manly bits. Fatigue and satisfaction fell on him like a feather comforter.

“What do I _need to do_ for you to tell me you love me back?” Quinn asked, approaching the camera. His tone didn’t leave wiggle room to consider another interpretation.

“You told me that for the first time under the Christmas lights,” Eliot reminded him with a smile. It was a shame technology didn’t allow him to reach for Quinn’s cheek through the screen. “Come here to see if I tell you that under the fireworks.”

Quinn’s sleepy face almost filled the screen and Eliot found himself smiling as a sly grin bloomed on Quinn’s face.

“ _Čallenge_ accepted!”

**Author's Note:**

> but it sure makes the rest of you ~~hornier~~ lonely. Charles M. Schulz
> 
> Bast gave this fic a spellchecker check and another friendly fan checked the voice and characterization. All the remaining errors belong to this author.


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